


Deep roots are not touched by the frost

by zimriya



Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, loki is arwen, the lotr au, this is a fabulous thing, thor is aragorn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimriya/pseuds/zimriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Featuring Thor Odinson, heir to the throne of Asgard, and his sometimes brother but mostly lover, Elven Prince Loki of Jotunheim, and their quest to destroy the ring of power and save the 9 realms.</p><p>A Lord of the Rings fusion</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Glad to be with you,

**Author's Note:**

> betaed by the lovely [crazygreenflamingo](http://crazygreenflamingo.tumblr.com/), my dear darling online brother and brain twin. Also looked over by my dearest soph . Any and all mistakes within are my own fault.

**Part 1: Glad to be with you,**

**\--**

It had been a very long time since Thor had had to explain his relationship with Loki, and even longer still since he wished to. Relationships in the house of Laufey were more the practical sort. Helblindi and Byleistr, more brothers to him than Loki had ever been, maintained their standing by virtue not of their parentage but through cunning and intelligence; Thor was many things but cunning was not one of them. And so it was by his father's name that Thor was a son of Laufey, and the Elf Lord himself made no secret of this. Thor more often than not found himself wishing that his mother had fled to the Light Elves.

He remembered being young and hiding in the garden, crying away the shame of some barb Helblindihad sent his way. Frigga had found him, not yet so taken with her grief that she stopped being a mother to him, and curled around him in the icy silence of Laufey's gardens.

“What troubles you, little one?” she had said, stroking idly at his hair and pushing stray strands behind his ears. Thor had sniffed, batting away her hands until he could shove the offending strands forward and _over_.

“Ah,” Frigga had said, holding him tighter. She had not let him win the battle of hair, though, and they ended up sprwled in the cool grass laughing. “It is not a bad thing to be different,” she had continued when their laughter had subsided, and, pausing, added, “I’ll let you in on a secret,” with a strange look on her face. When she had tugged aside a strand of her own hair to reveal her own perfectly rounded ears, Thor had laughed; because how could they be ugly if _Frigga_ had them? “There,” she had said, poking him once on the nose. “That’s better.”

(Later, he would ask: “Does it make us above them?”

Later, she would frown, purse her lips, and withdraw: “Those are your father’s words, my dear. You must not use them here.”

And much later, when he was lying curled in Laufey’s garden once more stroking a finger along one sharply curved ear, he would understand that she had meant _never_.)

Loki was different from the rest of them. Thor had met him when he was too young to be allowed near weapons but not young enough to be fooled by simple spells and locks; Thor had met him lost and wandering through the forests around Utgard with only a too large bow and too small knife to protect himself from the monsters that sent Byleistr and Helblindi back bloody and sharp grinned; Thor had met Loki suddenly and unexpectedly, had loosed an arrow in his general direction, and could only sputter in shock and startled indignation when he caught it.

Then, it had been blessing to have a playmate more accustomed to emotion and mischief than stoicness and duty; now, with Loki grinning up at him through dark lashes and his friends muttering angrily, Thor found himself wishing desperately that Loki was more like the rest of his family.

“Um,” said Steve. The ringbearer looked more than a little confused, but as soon as Stark opened his mouth, he spoke up. “Thor?” Stark’s mouth snapped shut on what had no doubt been about to be something incredibly offensive.

 “Yes, Ringbearer?” Thor said, more than a little grateful.

“Do you, um, know each other?”

Loki had landed gracefully on his feet and was pretending to brush imaginary dust from his shoulders, but he paused to say smugly, “Yes, _Thor_. Do we?”

“Brother,” Thor growled in warning.

Loki simply raised a brow and pushed his hair back neatly over his shoulders and away from his ears. His very clearly _pointed_ ears.

“Ah, Thor?” Stark said. “I’m pretty sure you can’t be brothers. What with the whole--” He made a complicated gesture at his own ears and Loki rolled his eyes.

“Now, now,” he said, shifting slightly on his feet in a way that let Thor know they would soon not be alone. “Let us not be so quick to reveal our own prejudices.”

Stark bristled, and Thor put a hand on his shoulder to halt him. “Worry not, my friend,” he said, and pointedly ignored the way Barton was repeating his words under his breath. “You are indeed correct. Loki and I are not blood brothers.”

“Though we could have been,” Loki added primly, folding his hands neatly around his bow.

Stark looked very much like he wished to pursue that particular direction of conversation, but now Thor could hear movement in the trees. “Hush,” he said softly to Stark and the others.  “We are not alone.”

“Indeed you are not,” a new voice said.

Each of his companions stiffened, tightening their fists around their weapons, and pointedly letting out an even breath when they found themselves surrounded by arrows. “Um, guys?” Stark said, shifting on the balls of his feet. “Kind of not liking our odds here.” He ended up looking down his nose at a particularly well crafted arrow and Thor had to bite back a laugh as he watched the man go a bit cross eyed.

Barnes, Pym, and Janet had stepped in and around Steve immediately, and behind them Banner was curling and uncurling a hand around his axe. Only Barton and Natasha remained motionless, but Thor could see a slight tremor in Barton’s hands on his bow.

“Odinson,” the voice continued, and Loki took a slightly reflexive step in front of Thor, turning to glare at the elf who stepped forward. He was tall, as all elves were, and he stood with a stillness in that Thor had come to associate with Light Elves. His piercing blue eyes were not unkind as he looked upon Thor, but his use of Thor’s true name kept Thor from relaxing completely.

Evidently Loki felt similarly, as he said, “Laufeyson, if you may, Faradei.” The skin around Faradei’s mouth tightened infinitesimally and Thor was not quick enough to hide a smile. Loki caught it, eyes going soft for a brief moment before he raised both hands and stepped into Thor’s shadow like he had never left. Natasha caught it as well, but she at least had the courtesy to simply smirk at him.

“Thor is fine,” Thor said mildly.

“For your sake,” Faradei said. “I shall think that you meant well, Loki.”

 “Unwise,” Loki began to say before Thor slapped a hand over his mouth.

“He did.”

Loki bit him playfully, but when Thor pulled his hand away he was silent.

“Come then,” Faradei said, gesturing for the archers surrounding them to lower their bows. “The Lady waits.”

Stark was the first to recover; he nodded to himself before striding after them. “Right,” he said, and shot one quick glance over his shoulder at Steve and Barnes before vanishing after Faradei. The rest of their party followed suit until only Barton and Natasha remained. The two of them cast one long glance at Loki, who waved, before they also followed.

Thor slapped at Loki half heartedly. “You haven’t changed,” he said.

Loki laughed. “We saw each other not even a month ago,” he said, curling a hand around Thor’s. “I should hope not.”

Thor allowed himself a real smile before stroking his thumb across the back of Loki’s hand. “Before that, then,” he conceded, as they set forward. His steps were automatically lightening to match Loki’s.

“Ah,” Loki said, and was silent until they reached the edge of the woods where everyone else had gathered. Here, his expression opened a little, and he lifted upon his toes to press his lips to the corner of Thor’s mouth. “I will never tire of that,” he said in Sindarin against Thor’s lips.

“Of what?” Thor managed, not nearly as soft.

Loki merely smiled, letting his hair cast shadows against his skin as he brought them further into the light so that they were standing among Thor’s companions, where he placed himself in Thor’s shadow again.  Thor turned a wry eyebrow on him, and Loki mirrored the gesture with far more grace than he. He pointedly turned his eyes forward.

Thor followed his line of sight hastily, in time to catch the Lady Idunn as she came, barefoot, down the great, sweeping, stone steps. At his side, Loki didn’t move, threading his fingers through Thor’s when the Lady Idunn’s mouth curved into a smile.

“What is it?” Thor breathed, far too out of practice to go unnoticed by the Lady.

“Shh,” Loki hushed, lips barely moving.

 “So this is the one, son of Farbauti,” she said in Sindarin, eyes gentle. She let her eyes wander across each of their faces: to Thor, who withstood it due to years spent living under the roof of Laufey; to the hobbits, who shifted from foot to foot; to Natasha, who met her with defiance and wisdom well beyond her years.

_So you are the one for whom my own kin dared steal into my gardens?_ came the Lady’s voice, the Sindarin ringing deep and powerful in Thor’s ears. He glanced about him at his companions, and saw the same startled fear in their eyes. _Are you worthy of such love, Odinson? For I do not take kindly to theft._

Thor paused, puzzled, and her eyes sparkled before she canted her head slightly to the left. There was a table sitting there laid out with two porcelain plates, and sitting upon them were the halves of a golden apple. Thor was struck suddenly with a memory of Loki, battle worn and tired, dragging him from Laufey’s halls out into the gardens to read to him. Thor had been far too young to remember much beyond the flash of a golden orb in Loki’s hands and the bittersweet taste of an apple on his tongue. But then, Laufey’s tables had been filled with apples that year.

“Tell me where is Coulson?” said the Lady Idunn in the Common Tongue, dragging Thor from his musings abruptly. “I would very much like to see him.”

“He fell,” Stark said, refusing to meet the Lady’s eyes when she looked at him.

She turned then to Thor, who would not look away. “It is true,” he said at last. At his side, Loki tensed, and though Thor could tell that he did not want to, he remained.

The Lady was silent for a long moment, before she smiled. “Come,” she said, finally. “Do not be troubled. Rest, here, for you have much to do.”

And the fellowship, bone weary and grief driven, was quick to step further into the moonlight shadows of Alfheim.

\--

Thor did not find it hard to set off alone into the woods, for when he passed by his companions he found Stark marveling at what appeared to be a tree.

“No, I swear,” he said as Thor passed them by. “It wasn’t here last night.”

Thor smiled a little himself as he thought of all of the stories that Helblindi used to tell about the wonder of Alfheim.

“Right,” Clint replied. “Of course.”

“No, really--!”

The elves were far too polite to acknowledge his passing, and he was very careful that the one who wasn’t was not present for his leaving. Still, Thor was not very surprised when Loki found him only moments later.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Loki said, and the Common Tongue flowed off his tongue with enough ease to give Thor pause. He turned to look at Loki, who was standing behind him. There was something about the way he was holding himself that was off, a slight heaviness in the shoulders that made Thor think of the Dunedain. He thought of why Loki would make such a choice, and of the months spent away from each other.

 “Have you been in Alfheim long?” he asked.

“Why do you ask?” Loki said, adopting a puzzled expression.

“You know why,” Thor growled, and then sighed when Loki’s blinding grin was answer enough. “Must you keep doing that?”

Loki shed the charade of humanity as easily he did their language. “Only if you keep falling for it. From the way you look at me, one would think I seek men out.” He stepped even closer still and draped his arms about Thor’s shoulders. The action reminded Thor that despite Loki’s slighter build, they were very nearly the same height.

“Are you saying you do not?” Thor said hoarsely.

“Not in the way you think,” Loki replied, leaning closer until they were only a hair’s breadth apart.

Thor rested his hands on Loki’s hips. “You don’t know what I think.”

Loki’s lips curled. “The same, my dear, could be said of you,” he said.

Thor tightened his fingers in the fabric of Loki’s shirt and dragged him with him as he stepped backwards.  “You forget,” he said as his back fell against a tree with a dull thud. “That I have had years to work at the secrets of your mind.”

Loki dropped his hands to the bark in front of him and nosed along Thor’s jawline. “Is that so?” he purred.

Thor let his head thump back against the tree with a grin. “Take now, for instance,” he said, one hand snaking up Loki’s shirt and stroking at the cool skin he found, tracing gentle swirls into Loki’s chest. “I’d say I have a good idea as to what you’re thinking.” He let his other hand trail down the curve of Loki’s hips, fingertips teasing at the hint of skin he found there.

“Oh?” Loki said, and then hissed when Thor pressed a leg between his. “Am I meant to be impressed?”

“Mmm,” Thor said, and used his leverage against to tree to more firmly lock their bodies together. Loki managed to stifle the groan, but the way his eyes fell shut and his jaw locked made Thor smile. “You were saying?” he said, taking his hand out of Loki’s shirt and tugging his head back so that he could look at him.

Loki blinked up at him, eyes half hazy with pleasure, and smiled a slow, curving smile. “You could do better,” he managed, before Thor kissed him silent. “So much better,” he continued to say, so Thor nipped him. The resulting full body shudder, and the way Loki’s lips parted on no doubt another biting remark, was the opposite of what Thor wanted, but by then Loki had put his own hands to use and Thor was far too preoccupied with remaining standing to care.

He wound a hand into the hair at the base of Loki’s neck, tugging gently and reveling in the moan that the motion dragged from his throat. Loki’s eyes slid to half mast and he regarded Thor coolly, before the pink of his tongue peeked out from behind his teeth. Thor blinked.

“That’s new,” he said. “Very, human.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “I am more than two thousand years, Thor,” he said. “Where would I be without a little variety.” He reached down to the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head, smirking down at Thor. “Besides, you should know by now that I do not hold my father’s opinions on these humans you speak of.”

“Laufey has never shown me anything but kindness,” Thor said softly, tracing his fingertips along the line of Loki’s ribs and splaying his hands greedily against the slope of his abdomen.

“Enough of my father,” Loki said, taking a hold of Thor’s hand and dragging it down his front, stopping at the lacings of his trousers. Thor’s breath caught, and he surged forward to kiss him. “Much better,” Loki managed when Thor pulled back. He made his own good work on Thor’s shirt, throwing it aside and slamming Thor more solidly against the tree. Thor groaned his approval and sunk his teeth into the line of Loki’s neck.

Loki shuddered, and the tree they were pressed against shifted. Thor froze. Moments later, Loki’s eyes opened slowly. “Oops,” he said. “It’s takes a lot of concentration to get them to stay where they are.”

Thor snorted. “Show off,” he said. He nudged Loki forward a few steps and then tripped him neatly onto a bed of moss.

Loki blinked back up at him, startled, before stretching his arms up above his head, the picture of calm. “Look at you,” he purred. “Son of Odin indeed.”

Thor growled and knelt down in the grass over Loki.

“Future King of the Nine Realms,” Loki continued, unperturbed even as Thor pressed his hips down hard against Loki’s own  His breath hitched, but he finished. “Heir of Buri--” he stuttered once, when Thor’s finished unlacing his trousers and slipped a hand inside to cup his cock, and he pressed his arms back so that he could lean up on his arms to watch Thor’s hand, but even then he kept speaking, “--wielder of the mighty hammer--hah--Mjolnir--”

Thor gave him a particularly ruthless squeeze and caught his lips with his own. “If we’re going to be telling tales, _brother_ ,” he said, letting go of Loki’s cock and shifting so that their hips lined up. “Might I inquire as to a certain rumor--” he broke off when Loki wrapped his legs around his waist and his back bowed. “Involving a horse lord?”

Loki’s eyes opened into slits and he reached down to shove at Thor’s own pants. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

Thor rolled his eyes, but helped Loki in removing the rest of his clothes. “If you say so,” he said.

Loki growled and curled a leg around the back of Thor’s thighs and heaved, rolling so that he was sitting astride Thor. “I do, actually,” he said. His eyes flashed brilliant for a second; the trees around them shifted ever so slightly. “You see, Thor,” he said, reading for Thor’s cock and taking it in hand. “Magic does indeed have its--uses.” He sank down in one clean movement, gloriously tight and hot, and sighed.

Thor looked up at him lazily. “I never said otherwise,” he said. “I believe that was your father, actually.” He put his hands on Loki’s hips and thrust up, once. Loki’s eyes fluttered closed. “Sorry,” Thor added. “That was the last time.”

“Mm,” he said. “He probably wouldn’t have been receptive to such a demonstration of this anyway.”

Thor laughed. “True,” he said. “Now come down here and kiss me.”

Loki opened one eye, smiled, and did just that.

\--

“You cannot come with us,” Thor said later.

“Oh?” Loki said sharply. “And what makes you think I intend to?”

Thor pointedly ignored the way Loki went rigid in his arms and continued to rest his chin against his shoulder. “You came to me dressed for travel,” he said, calmly.

Loki twisted in his arms so that he could glare at him. “I did not know how long it would take me to find you,” he said.

“That may be so,” Thor said. “But tell me, why have you not returned to Jotunheim? Surely it does not take a month for you to visit your mother.”

“I will not leave you,” said Loki finally, giving up all pretenses. He managed to wrestle an arm free, and rolled so that they were no longer touching.

“Loki,” Thor said, placing a hand on his shoulder and Loki began to fight him in earnest.

“Do not ‘Loki’ me,” he said, twisting free and rolling so that he was straddling Thor. He did not often make use of his superior strength, but now he did, with his fingers like iron against Thor’s shoulders. “I will not have this from you,” he said. “Byleistr, maybe, and Helblindi, certainly, but not you. Never you.”

“I would not have you tie yourself to me--” Thor began.

“You would have me leave you,” Loki hissed, eyes narrow. “You would have me take that ship, never to see you again.”

“I would have you _live_ , Loki,” Thor said. “I would have you _safe_.”

Thor could tell from the way Loki stopped, lips parted, that he had caught him off guard. Therefore it came as no surprise when Loki released him and rested his head against Thor’s. “I hate it when you do that,” he said quietly, and would not meet Thor’s eyes.

 “Do what?”

Loki did not lift his head. “Love me,” he said, and before Thor could protest added, “This would be much easier if you did not love me.”

Thor wrapped his arms around Loki with a sigh. “Many things would be,” he said softly. “But I do.”

Loki closed his eyes. “I know,” he said as Thor pressed kisses to his eyelids. “I know.”

\--

Thor found it very hard to meet his companion’s eyes the next morning when the Lady Idunn sent them on their way. They were all looking ragged around the edges, certainly, but Thor at least had the very vivid memory of Loki’s eyes to keep him smiling. Still, he made some semblance of an attempt to keep from looking too pleased with himself. From the way Stark was smirking at him, he was not doing a very good job.

“Morning, Thor,” said Stark eventually, falling into step at Thor’s side a few paces behind the hobbits. “Sleep well?”

Thor gritted his teeth. “Aye,” he said. “And you?” Ahead of them, Barnes said something that made the others laugh, and Thor didn’t fight his smile this time.

“Oh, you know,” Stark replied, grinning. “Nowhere near as nicely as you, I presume.”

Thor snorted, and muttered a few unkind things at the man in Sindarin. From her place three paces in front of them, Natasha gave a barking laugh, and bent her head low to whisper to Barton. To his right, Thor heard a twig snap, and hid a smirk.

“I’d leave the man alone, if I were you, Tony,” Barton called back. “Seeing as he’s got one language on you.”

Stark rolled his eyes. “Not for long,” he said. “A certain Prince of Jotunheim has said he shall teach me.”

Thor raised his eyebrows. “Oh?” he said. “Loki said _that_?”

Barton and Natasha shook their heads, before Natasha fell into step at Banner’s side and Barton fell back to talk with the hobbits.

“Not in so many words, no,” Stark conceded, and Thor’s lips twitched.

“I would think not,” he said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “If you want to learn Sindarin, you’d be better off trying your hand with the Light Elves. Or better yet, the Dark Elves, for they make no secret of their cruelties in Svartalfheim.”

Stark chucked in response. “Speaking from experience, are we?”

Thor tightened his fingers on Stark’s shoulder and did his best to mimic Helblindi’s grin. “Perhaps,” he said simply, before releasing the man and continuing on his way. Stark seemed worryingly quiet for a moment, before he was striding to keep up.

“I take back everything I ever said about you being soft,” Stark said. “You most definitely were raised in Jotunheim, no questions there.” He shuddered, and went to speak quietly with Banner, while Thor laughed and laughed.

\--

Thor knew that Loki had been following them since they’d left Alfheim, yet still startled when Loki appeared at his side as Stark fell.

“Brother,” he managed, for there was an arrow sticking out of Stark and not nearly enough time. Barton and Natasha were nowhere to be seen.

“Thor,” Loki said, shoving his hands out of the way and examining the wound.

“Not exactly how I wanted this to go,” Stark managed, as Loki set about stripping him of his shirt.

Thor rolled his eyes. “Mind your tongue,” he said, and then quickly in Sindarin, “Will he be alright?”

“Now see that’s just unfair,” Stark groaned, as Loki ran quick fingers up and down the arrow. “Probably best not to take that out.”

“He will be fine,” Loki said. He was speaking Sindarin, and Thor thought he did it to be contrary. Stark must have read something calming in his body language, though, for he relaxed a little.

Thor raised an eyebrow. “Have you been practicing you healing spells?” he said.

Loki quirked a lip. “You could say,” he said, reaching into a pocket and producing a golden apple. He took the apple in one palm and the arrow in another, and Stark’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh please tell me you are not about to--ow!”

The arrow ripped free with surprising ease, and Thor winced.

“Eat it,” Loki said with urgency in his voice.

Stark, grumbling, took a bite. And another. And another. The skin at his chest began to knit back together. “Bruce! Hey!” he called, lifting an arm. “You’ve got to try these!”  Banner gave a small smile and made his way over. His axe was dripping with Chitauri blood.

“What kind fruit is that?” Thor said.

“Any sign of them?” Loki said standing, ignoring Thor’s question.

“No,” said Natasha, slipping out from behind the trees. Barton followed moments after. “They took the hobbits.”

“Loki,” Thor growled.

“A golden apple,” Loki snapped, finally, turning to glare at Thor. “Stolen from the gardens of the Lady Idunn. They can give immortal life.”

Stark stopped chewing the apple. “Hang on,” he said around it. “Immortal life?”

“That’s a fantastic idea,” Barton mumbled. “A Tony who can live forever.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “You won’t live forever from just one, Stark,” he said, scoffing, with an air of finality. “And what of the Ringbearer?”

Thor looked at him for a long moment, before closing his eyes briefly. “I let him go,” he said, turning to Loki. “I would assume Barnes followed him. They mean to take it to Helheim alone.”

Stark tossed the core between his hands. “That’s fantastic,” he said. “Fancy a trip to Helheim?”

Natasha looked to be readying a biting remark. “No,” Thor said before she could. “We cannot follow them now.”

Stark pocketed the apple core and started to get to his feet. He stopped, winced, and gave Loki a long look. “Any side effects you want to share?” he said.

Loki sighed. “No.” he said.

Thor threw him an angry look. “What Loki means is that there are no side effects to consuming the apples.” Stark opened his mouth. “There are, however,” Thor continued, still glaring at Loki even as he lifted his hands, “plenty of side effects to getting shot in the chest with an arrow,” he finished with a smile.

“You will need Elvish medicine,” Loki added. Thor’s smile held. Barely.

“Great,” Stark said. “We’re not that far from Alfheim. Shouldn’t be that long, right?”

“It would be unwise to retrace our steps,” Loki pointed out, bouncing on the tips of his toes. “The Chitauri will have a ten days lead on us. _If_ we move quickly,” he added, when Stark made to speak again.

“What will they do to them?” Banner said finally.

It was Natasha who spoke. “Nothing good,” she said, solemnly, and Banner set his shoulders.

“I will take Tony to Alfheim. You go ahead. Find Hank and Janet.”

Thor looked at him for a moment, before nodding. He helped Banner get Stark to his feet, and clasped a hand to his shoulder. “I may not see you again,” he said.

Stark gave him a blinding smile. “I wouldn’t worry, big guy,” he said, reaching out to pat him awkwardly on the bicep. “Wow,” he added, fingers stuttering against the muscle.

Thor raised one eyebrow and Loki made a choked noise from behind him, before turning and walking off into the woods.

“You know the way?” Natasha said, stepping forward to take Thor’s place.

“Yes, of course,” Stark replied, brightly, and Thor left them to say their goodbyes, setting off past the bodies in search of Loki.

“You look tired,” Loki said when he found him just beyond the clearing. He turned to face Thor. “What troubles you?”

Thor looked at nothing for a long moment, before his gaze slid up the column of Loki’s throat to meet his eyes. The concern there made him smile.

“I told you not to come,” he said finally.

“Mm,” Loki said, bringing a hand up to play with the Morningstar pendant at Thor’s neck. “I could not let you keep all the glory for yourself, you know,” he pointed out, light, but the way his eyes never strayed from the jewel gave him away. Thor brought a hand up to cover Loki’s.

“I stand by what I said,” he said. “You mustn’t come with us.”

Loki met his eyes for a long moment before ripping free of Thor’s grip and striding a few steps away.

“Loki,” Thor said. “Please.”

Loki turned sharply on him, eyes blazing. “Please what?” he snarled, and even the melodic hypnotism of his native tongue could not hide the savagery behind the question. Thor could not help but flinch back in response.

“It is but a quest,” Thor said. “It is not the end. Your father--”

“My father would see us parted.”

“As would I,” Thor managed. He remembered Laufey slipping into the room that housed Mjolnir to command him to let Loki go, and stepped forward to catch Loki’s hands in his and press their foreheads together. That Loki let him hurt most of all. “It was a dream, Loki,” he said. “Nothing more.”

Loki looked like he was going to protest, and Thor allowed himself a moment before slipping a hand up to grasp the pendant around his neck. He pulled the chain free, and made to press it into Loki’s hand.

Loki pulled back as if burnt, eyes going wild, before his teeth set. “It was gift,” he hissed. “Keep it.”

And then he pulled his hands free and went to join Banner and Stark, loudly proclaiming that there was no way he was going to trust two humans to find their way back to Alfheim.

To their credit, Barton and Natasha said nothing as Thor watched them disappear into the trees.

\--

“They’re taking the Hobbits to the Eljundir,” said Clint. Thor had stopped thinking of him by his family name sometime around the time the man tripped him off of a mountain in jest. The man was perched atop a rock, eyes narrowed as he surveyed the landscape.

Thor nodded to himself, and continued his inspection of the Chitauri’s tracks. “Right,” he said.

“I see,” Natasha said. She brought up the rear of their group but made up for it with her ongoing commentary and ability to keep Clint in check.

“Hey now,” Clint said. “These eyes are legendary.”

Thor nodded again. “Yes, of course.”

“It’s true,” Clint grumbled, at the same time Natasha leaned in to say to him,

“He was raised in Jotunheim. I’m pretty sure their eyesight is actually the stuff of legends.”

Clint made a face.

“That’s true,” Thor said, leaning down to press his ear to the ground. He could feel the faint rumble of movement. “My brother Helblindi’s eyesight has indeed slain us many a beast.”

“Ha,” said Natasha.

“Although,” Thor continued, standing. “I wouldn’t call that a legend per say. More like a bedtime story.”

“Ha!” Clint shot back.

“We must hurry,” Thor said finally. “They’ve caught our scent.”

“What do they feed in you in Jotunheim?” Clint called from behind him as Thor set off at a run.

\--

They paused once for breath on the edge of Vanaheim, and for once Clint remained silent. “No words?” Natasha said, eyes tracking across the sprawling fields in front of them.

Clint shifted slightly on his feet. “It’s too quiet,” he said. “How long have we been at this?”

Thor’s lips twitched, and his fingers played at the Morningstar pendant around his neck. “Too long,” he agreed.

Clint stared out at Vanaheim for another long moment, before shaking his head. “Well,” he said, clapping his hands together. “We’d better get going, yeah? Hobbits to save.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and exchanged a look with Thor, but followed all the same.

\--

“Those are Njord’s colors,” Thor said when they spotted the riders. He was pressed back against a cluster of boulders, but now he stepped free. Clint and Natasha followed closely at his heels, weapons twisting in their hands. Thor risked a smile. “Friends,” he said, voice carrying across the vast expanse of land, and winced when they found themselves surrounded.

One rider nudged their horse free of the group and when Thor looked closer, he could see a shock of red hair sticking out from beneath the helmet. “What business do you three have in Vanaheim?” the rider said, voice deep and commanding. Thor stiffened automatically.

“What business is it of yours?” Clint replied, fingers tight around his bow. “We don’t even know your name.”

The rider’s lips tightened into a thin line and those around them shifted restlessly. He eyed them for a long moment, before one of the riders behind him sighed. “Brother,” they said, coming forward. “Leave them be.” The rider came along side her brother--for she was a she; that much was evident from the lilt of her voice and the cut of her armor--and lifted her helmet free. Her hair was as red as her brother’s, falling down her back in a tangle of braids. Thor’s lips twitched.

“The Lady Freya, I presume,” he said, more than a little grateful for Loki’s tedious lineage lessons.

She turned to look more directly at him, and inclined her head. “Who asks?” she said, voice carrying. At her side, her brother removed his own helmet, and the riders lowered the weapons.

“I am Thor, son of Laufey, and this is Clint Barton and Natasha--” He broke off.

“Romanov,” Natasha said curtly, without taking her hands from her knives.

The man from before frowned. “I am Freyr,” he said. “Brother of Freya.” He paused. “Laufeyson did you say? I did not know he fathered men.”

Thor chuckled. At his side, Natasha stiffened and Thor touched a warning hand to her shoulder. “No,” he addressed Freyr. “I don’t suppose he did.”

“Never mind that,” Freya said, nudging at her horse’s side. “What brings you to Vanaheim?”

“We track an army of Chitauri,” Natasha said, meeting Freya’s eyes unflinchingly. “They have two of our friends hostage.”

“Chitauri,” Freya said. “We slaughtered them in the night.” She grinned, feral and wide. “Right, brother?”

“Indeed,” Freyr said. “We left none alive.”

“None,” Natasha repeated, voice dead. Clint let his bow drop to his side slowly, and Thor let out a deep breath through his nose. “You are certain?”

Freyr had the decency to look chagrined. “Here,” he said, gesturing for one of the riders to lead forward two horses. “These horses lost their riders in the night.” Clint and Natasha took the reins quietly.

“Two,” Clint muttered before Natasha hushed him. “Are we meant to share?”

“I could solve that problem for you, archer,” Freya said, voice a dark purr. “One well aimed arrow and you’d be dead where you stand.”

Clint looked enamored, and so Thor was quick to interrupt. “Thank you,” he said.

“We piled the carcasses and burned them,” said Freyr, pointing off into the distance, and when Thor looked he could see smoke. He turned to his companions, who met his eyes with set jaws, and then looked back at Freyr.

 “Thank you, my friend,” he said. “How goes your king?”

Freyr’s lips twisted into a false looking smile. “He has seen better days,” he said.

Freya finally looked away from Clint.“He does not recognize his own kin,” she said stiffly. “We ride for Sessrumnir; even Stane’s company would be preferable.” Thor thought of the way Stark had gone solemn when speaking of his guardian, and winced. “Brother,” Freya said. With a sharp cry, she spurred her horse forward.

Thor looked to Freyr, who sighed. “It is as she said. He has fallen under a spell. We are exiled, my sister and I both. These are the ones still loyal to the true king.”

Thor pursed his lips.  “Thank you,” he said, and Freyr nodded at them, before whistling once and going to join his sister.

“What do we do now?” Clint said softly as they watched them go, and Thor didn’t have an answer.

“We head that way,” Natasha said finally, pointing to where the smoke was spiraling up in dizzying, dark clouds. “If we are to return empty handed, it will not be for lack of trying.”

Clint nodded. “Right,” he said. “Come on then.” He made to get on the horse, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

“If you think for a second I’m sharing with big, blond, and muscled over here,” she said, pointing a thumb in Thor’s direction.

“Think again, my friend,” Thor finished for her, coming to take the reins from Clint’s hands and running a hand along the horse’s flank.

Natasha made a pleased noise and settled herself gracefully up onto the other horse, which nickered and shifted uneasily. “Oh hush,” Natasha said in Sindarin. “You act as if you’ve never seen a woman warrior before; your Lady Princess says otherwise.”

Laughing, thor hoisted himself up into the saddle with all the grace Helblindi had taught him.

Clint pressed his lips into a pout. “Very funny, guys,” he said. He got up on the horse behind Natasha nimbly enough, but he was still frowning when they started off towards the smoke, and made little commentary until they sat before it.

Freyr’s riders had indeed slaughtered all in their path. Bodies lay strewn about in a lose attempt at a pile, faces frozen in grotesque pictures of death. There was the head of one Chitauri soldier, the lead most likely, sat upon a pike at the front of the pile. Something about the position and the almost careful way it had been arranged, led Thor to believe that it was Freya’s work.

“This is impressive,” he said, dismounting in front of the slow burning pile of carcasses and frowning

Clint, eager to get off the horse, dismounted and came to stand beside him. Natasha remained seated, her eyes darting across the pile of bodies. “I like her,” Clint said, coming to the same conclusion as Thor and jerking his chin towards the pike. He shook himself, before starting forward to begin examining the pile of carcasses. “The Lady Freya, I mean.”

Natasha snapped to attention. “You and the entire court of Vanaheim,” she said, giving her horse one last pat and a few whispered words before joining them. “And Asgard’s for that manner; I wouldn’t be surprised if at least one person suggests you marrying her, Thor.”

Thor gave her a look. “I should think any marriage between Asgard and Jotunheim would be far worthier than that of Asgard and Vanaheim. We are not at war with the Vanir.”

“We’re not at war with the elves either,” Natasha replied. “And besides, the elves are leaving. We’re beyond any type of diplomacy. You and Loki would have been better off being born in the second age.”

Thor’s lips twisted. “Laufey would beg to differ,” he said. They both paused to watch Clint tug at a something from underneath one of the bodies and go flying across the field when it came loose.

“I’m okay!” Clint shouted.

Natasha shook her head and turned back to Thor. “Ah yes,” she said. “The true ‘immortal king’ himself. Nal chose mortality, you know.”

“I did,” Thor said. “He often told us stories. Loki, in particular, felt rather cheated of an aunt.”

“Hey,” Clint interrupted before Natasha could make any more comments. “Look.” He held up the charred remains of what looked like a belt; a hobbit sized belt. Thor looked closer.

“Pym’s,” Natasha said.

“Possibly,” Thor said.

Clint twisted the thing around in his hands for a moment, and then let loose a volley of curses. “Damn the Vanir!” he finished.

“Clint,” Natasha said quietly.

“I liked her!” Clint cried. “With her stupid hair and stupid smile--damn her!”

Thor could find nothing to say to that and so he left the comforting to Natasha, who reached out a hand to only have it slapped aside.

“Okay, stop,” Natasha said finally, voice tight. “Think for a moment. There’s no guarantee that the belt was in fact Pym’s.”

“Really,” Clint said, sarcasm practically dripping off of the word. “ _Really._ ”

Thor sank to his knees in the grass and bowed his head. He was no stranger to death--none of them were, after Coulson--but it still stung each time. He focused on the grass in front of him, on the glint of sunlight on each blade and the way his shadow fell across it--Laufey’s trick--and frowned.

“Clint,” he said.

Clint and Natasha appeared not to hear him.

“Clint,” he said again, louder. Still nothing. “Barton.”

“What?”

“Come look at this.”

Clint made a face at Natasha but came to kneel beside Thor. “What?” he said again, and then fell silent, narrowing his eyes and sinking down onto Thor’s level. “I see,” he said, eyes darting across the patch of land in front of them.

“What do you see?” Natasha said. She took a few steps towards them, and paused. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Clint said, getting to his feet. He cast his eyes in the direction of the great forest to their left. “They’re alive,” he continued. “And I’m going to say that they went that way.” He pointed towards the forest, which forest gave a foreboding shudder, and Thor swallowed.

“Right,” he said finally. “Shall we?”

\--

Coulson’s return was suitably to the point; he appeared before them in a flash of bright light, smiled at them briefly, and then put them straight to work, issuing orders and deadlines as if he’d never left. The eight legged horse, Sleipnir, was startling, but Thor took it in stride.

Clint, however, could not stop staring at Sleipnir the whole ride to Njord’s castle.

“Barton,” barked Coulson without looking at him. “Eyes off the horse.”

Clint snapped to attention and Natasha snickered from her place in front of him on their horse.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice yours as well, Romanov,” Coulson continued, and this time, Thor didn’t hide his smile. Things were finally looking up.

\--

Guards met them at the edge of Njord’s palace and regarded Coulson for a long moment.

“You are...the wizard?” one said. There were three of them, standing somewhat awkwardly with their weapons in hand, looking dubious.

Coulson made a face that Thor was relatively certain meant he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes,” he said. He was wearing one of Natasha’s cloaks but was no less poised for it. It was a dull grey in color, meant to mask the somewhat unearthly way the man now held himself. From the looks on the guard’s faces, it was working. 

They regarded Coulson for another moment, before their jaws tightened. “Your weapons,” the same one prompted.

Coulson heaved out a long sigh. “Is that really necessary?” he said. The guard’s looked more than a little uncomfortable, though, so they each set about disentangling their considerable arsenals; Natasha’s knife collection alone was enough to make the guards look even more uneasy.

Clint’s hands tightened on his bow, but Natasha simply looked at him, and he set it down on the table. “I will personally track you all down if you so much as touch that,” Clint hissed under his breath. But when Coulson stepped forward towards the great wooden doors, he followed easily enough.

Thor reached down to remove the knife he kept in his right boot, and set it down gently on the table. “Keep an eye on that one,” he said, fingering the Sindarin lettering on the hilt. “It’s...special.”

He gave the guards a long look and turned to follow Natasha towards the entrance to the hall. As they made their way into the darkness of the room, Coulson nudged him on the arm. Without looking down, he took Loki’s blade in his hand and slipped it down back into its place in his boot.

“The one on the left,” Coulson said under his breath, “was eyeing the Sindarin on it a little too closely.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Thor replied. “You did not need to.”

“I figured it was a gift.”

Thor smiled. “It was,” he said.

There was the sound of a throat clearing and Njord’s throne came into view. The king was seated atop it, eyes dull and face ghostly pale. At his side sat his queen, the Lady Nerthus. In contrast to her husband, her eyes were sharp as knives, and when she moved to greet them, the air positively buzzed with magic. Thor had seen the worst kind of magic in his journey across the nine realms, but this was nothing like that. This was malicious in a way that even the Dark Elves were not. When Thor looked at her he saw hatred in her eyes that only Coulson seemed able to withstand.

“My Lady,” Coulson said, unwavering.

She stood. “My Lord,” she said, addressing her husband. “Coulson has come.”

“Coulson?” Njord said weakly, making to shift on the seat. Nerthus reached out a hand and gently pressed him back; Thor was not sure if the gentleness was out of concern for the man, or if it was simply due to his weakness. She leaned in close to whisper something into his ear, and he settled.

“What business do you have with us, wizard?” she said bitingly. “You are not welcome here.”

Thor’s fingers itched for Loki’s blade and at his side, Natasha’s jaw had snapped shut. “She is possessed,” she muttered under the breath. “Or turned, rather.”

Coulson ignored her and regarded the Vanir queen quietly. “My Lady Nerthus,” he said. “My companions and I bring news of your children.”

That seemed to get her attention, and when Coulson turned to look imploringly at Thor, she did as well.

He startled, clearing his throat. “I--yes,” he said, trying in vain to channel some of Loki’s charm. “We met them on the edge of your lands. They were bound for Sessrumnir.” It occurred to him as the words left his mouth, that such information was not so lightly given. Nerthus seemed not to notice.

Njord, however, furrowed his brow at Thor. “My...children?” he said.

“Enough,” Nerthus cut in before he could continue. “Coulson is no friend of ours.”

Coulson straightened himself, let the cloak fall from his shoulders, and glared back at her.

“Oops,” said Clint. He reached out a hand to take a hold of Coulson’s cloak at the same time Natasha did, and the affect was all rather much for Thor; Coulson, eyes cold as ice and the wisest he’d ever seen, standing in front of Vanaheim’s Queen and raining down all the power of the nine realms.

“So actually a wizard,” Clint was saying when the light finally dimmed.

Thor looked up in time to catch a hint of blonde hair as a woman made to run towards the king. He caught her in his arms before she could.

“Did you think him a liar?” Thor said. The woman in his grip twisted. “Hush,” he said, placing a hand gently about her mouth.

“No,” Clint said. “I wasn’t buying the great and powerful part, is all.”

They both paused to watch as the Other fled Njord’s body and the Vanir king finally opened his eyes. Immediately, the woman in his grip made a disgruntled noise from behind his hand, and Thor let her go to her king.

“Amora,” Njord breathed when she reached his side, bringing a hand up to touch her face.

She smiled back at him a bit tearfully, before stepping back and letting him look around the hall at his soldiers, gathered awkwardly around Coulson, and then to Coulson to himself.

“You,” Njord began. “You spoke of my children?”

There was an uncomfortable pause, which Thor very quick broke. “Alive,” he said. Njord’s eyes caught on his face. “We met them on the edge of Vanaheim,” he continued. “They were....well.”

Njord laughed hoarsely. “I should hope so,” he said, before gathering himself and turning to Coulson, ever a king. “What must be done?”

Nerthus stumbled backwards in response, but before she could get more than a few feet away,Coulson stepped forward gracefully to sleep her legs out from under her. He held her at bay with one pointed look, and straightened. “Much,” he said.

\--

The woman was called the Lady Amora, and she was the niece to the King and cousin to the would be Queen. Thor looked at her and could see shades of both of them in the way she wielded a sword and met his eyes head-on when she spotted him.

“My Lord.” She dipped forward politely. Clint and Natasha, standing slightly behind Thor and still half in conversation, stopped talking and faced her curiously.

Ignoring the sudden silence, Thor spoke. “I came to apologize for earlier,” he said. “I meant you no disrespect with my--” he broke off, and went through the movements of gripping her arm in the space between them.

From behind him, Clint snickered, and Thor stiffened, but the Lady Amora simply laughed and licked her lips. “My Lord Thor,” she said. “You saved my uncle.” She smiled again, as if that forgave everything, and retreated back towards where Njord and Coulson were gathered around one of the tables.

“Thor,” said Clint, coming around to drape an arm around Thor’s shoulders. “Don’t you have a certain ice prince to be thinking about?”

Thor shoved the archer off him roughly, faintly pink around the cheeks. “Do not call him that,” he said briskly, rubbing angrily at the Morningstar pendant. “Loki is--”

“--Loki is going to _love_ her,” Natasha broke in, loud enough that Coulson shot her an amused look. Clint waved.

“What do you mean?” Thor said, ignoring them both.

Natasha pressed her lips into a thin line. “You’re very easily liked,” she said finally. “And you did pull her into your arms before you’d so much as exchanged names. It’s no wonder that she’s quite so,” she added, pausing as Amora looked back over at Thor with a smile before leaving the great hall in a flourish of skirts, “enamored.”

Thor watched Amora go with a frown. “I don’t see how that is any concern of Loki’s,” he said petulantly. “My heart is his; he knows this.”

Natasha turned to look at him. “Of course,” she said, as the doors to the great hall swung open to reveal the guards, leading a young boy and girl. She tapped Clint once on the shoulder and went to Coulson’s side.

“We were attacked,” one of the children, the boy, said. He was clutching at his sister as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to let go of her. The girl, in return, was gazing about the hall with a look of half wonder, half fear. “Our village.” The boy broke off, brow furrowing. He looked rather faint.

Njord very quickly gestured for someone to get them food, for them to sit down. The Lady Amora went to their side quickly, stepping around the guards and gently separating them. “Hello,” she said softly. “My name’s Amora, what’s yours?”

“Sigyn,” the girl said softly, looking at the Lady Amora’s dress. “Are you a princess?”

The Lady Amora laughed. “Not quite,” she said, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go get some food?”

The girl followed eagerly, and her brother, seeing her smile, seemed to relax a bit more.

“We must act,” Coulson said to Njord once the children had settled in to eat. “The Other is clever--this will not be the last force he sends against us.”

Njord looked at the children for a long moment. “My people are weary,” he said finally. “Our numbers are few. I will not risk open war.”

Coulson jaw twitched, but it was Natasha spoke first. “Open war is upon you,” she said. “You are not alone. Freya and Freyr--”

Njord seemed to tower over Natasha, who held her ground. “What do you know of my children?” he said, deadly soft. “Last I checked, it was Njord, not Natasha, who was King of Vanaheim.”

Clint made a hissing noise and looked like he was going to step forward, but Natasha didn’t even have to look at him to have him thinking better of it; she did something with her posture, something so subtle that Thor would have missed it if he hadn’t spent a summer living in Svartalfheim.

Njord gave the room one long last look, lingering on the two children, silent now, and turned to go. “Ready the people,” he said. “We ride for Aegirheim. Ran owes me a favor.”

Coulson watched him go, lips pursed, before he turned to Thor and the others. He raised an arm, and pushed open the doors to the great hall. They followed, steps quickening to match Coulson’s pace. He paused at the edge of the balcony overlooking Vanaheim, and sighed.  “I am weary,” he said, apropos of nothing. “How fares Rogers?”

Thor twitched. “Steve?” he said. “Barnes is with him.”

Coulson nodded. “And Stark? Banner? Did they--”

“They’re fine,” Clint said. “Stark got shot full of arrows, but luckily we had a magic apple.”

Coulson turned to look at them at that. “A golden apple,” he said. “Were you in Alfheim?”

“Yes,” Thor said. “After Muspelhiem. After--” he broke off.

“After Sutur,” Coulson said. “After I fell.”

Clint punched him in the arm. “Don’t do that again,” he said.

Coulson smiled. “I hadn’t planned on it,” he said. He looked out across Vanaheim with a long sigh. “We will be outnumbered,” he said. “The Other has spies everywhere now.” He had begun taking long strides towards the stables, and Thor followed quickly. “You will have to make sure that Njord’s forces hold.”

“They go to their death,” Natasha said disdainfully. “They run away.”

“He only does what he believes to be right,” Thor pointed out. Natasha snorted.

“Peace,” Coulson said. They reached Sleipnir’s stall, and Coulson began readying him.

 “What are you doing?” Thor said.

“I will seek council with the lady Freya,” Coulson said. “You said she rides for Sessrumnir?”

Thor blinked. “Will you have enough time?”

Coulson ran on hang against Sleipnir’s flank, gripped tightly to his mane and hauled himself up into the saddle. “I will have to,” he said, and then with little more than a tap to Sleipnir’s sides, he was off.

\--

When Clint went stiff at his side and Natasha’s fingers tightened on her knives, Thor sighed. “What is it?” he said. They were within a day’s ride to Aegirheim and he was beginning to tire of the monotony of their journey. Someone had taken pity on Clint and gotten him his own horse. Clint seemed convinced that it was one of the court girls; Thor was relatively certain that it had been Natasha.

Clint squinted. “Beasts of some sort,” he said, dismounting and striding out across the fields. Thor followed him on horseback with a wordless command from Njord. “Huge,” Clint continued, “scaly, erm, antlers of some sort?”

“Bilgesnipe,” Thor said. Thor had seen enough bilgesnipe to last a lifetime; that being once as a small child while cowering behind Laufey as Helblindi and Byleistr made a sport of the killing and Loki rattled off terrifying information about the beasts at his side. He held Thor’s hand, though, so Thor forgave him. Mostly. “I think their scales are weak around their...somewhere,” he said unhelpfully. “They’re not impervious, at least,” he added.

Clint made a face. “I don’t like the sound of that,” he said. He raised his bow and with practiced ease sent an arrow flying into the quickly approaching group. He was aiming for the leader’s left eye; he didn’t miss.

Thor left him to it, turning his horse neatly and galloping back towards their party.

“What is it?” Njord said when Thor came within shouting distance.

“Bilgsnipe,” he repeated.

The Vanir king made a sour face. “You must take the women and children to Aegirheim,” he said to Amora. The few soldiers he had at his disposal were already readying their swords and horses. At his side, Amora set her jaw. “Tell Ran I am calling in that favor,” he continued.

“What of you?” she said, but she was looking at Thor as he settled back into the saddle. He refused to hold her gaze.

“We will do our duty.”

“It is my duty as well,” Amora said sharply. “I am as much the warrior as Freya ever was.”

Njord’s face shuttered closed. “And for that I have lost her,” he said bitterly. “She is as stubborn as her mother.”

Something of his musing must have touched Amora, for she sighed. “Alright,” she said. “I shall go.” She stood to her full height and strode to the head of the group, where the women and children swept about her anxiously. “This way!” she called. She glanced back once at Thor, who closed his eyes briefly as he settled himself more firmly into his saddle

Thor had to admit that they had the advantage: the Vanir were quick to prove their worth as warrior horsemen, weaving this way and that around the larger creatures and hacking their riders down. To do so required close quarters, and so it was Clint who was the star of the battle.

He and Natasha had developed a system wherein she would ride in close to the bilgsnipe to do battle with their riders and he would distract the beasts with arrows. It was terrifyingly effective; they came galloping by Thor giving great whoops of joy as their foes fell. “I don’t see what the fuss was all about!” Clint said, guiding his horse to Thor’s side. “They’re rather easy.”

“I think it’s the Chitauri’s influence,” Thor called back. “I remember them being...bigger.”

“Are you sure you’re not remembering wrong?” Clint didn’t even look away from Thor as he sent an arrow whizzing past Natasha’s ear and into a soldier’s skull.

“I did not think that it was even possible to ride them.”

“Why would you say that!” said Clint, over his shoulder. He let loose another arrow, which buried itself in the eye-socket of one of the soldiers with a solid _thunk_.

“I had not thought they could be tamed!” Thor shouted back, whirling away from the snapping jaws of one of the beasts and hacking viciously at its left flank.

“Most things can be tamed!” Njord said quietly from behind Thor, who turned in time to watch the king pull his sword out of the body of one of the beasts. “The scales--have they a use?”

Thor blinked. “Erm, well,” he said. “I do not know?” He shrugged, sheepish. Loki would have known.

“Not willingly at least!” Clint interrupted, continuing their conversation cheerfully. “Although I don’t know why not--they look kind of sweet!” He cast a slightly terrifying look over his shoulder and proceeded to shoot one of the Chitauri riders down. The body fell to the side and the bilgsnipe stopped, lumbered over to Clint, and stared at him. The archer met its eyes evenly.

“I think it likes you,” Thor said.

Natasha, with unnervingly good timing, looked up. She regarded the bilgsnipe and Clint, before reaching for one of the oncoming Chitauri soldier’s spears, taking it from its hand, and hurtling it at the bilgsnipe. It slammed into the beast’s head just as the creature opened its jaws in a snarl. Clint swallowed. “Thanks!” he managed.

“Shut up and keep shooting!” Natasha shouted back at him. Clint fired off a truly impressive slew of curses in languages that Thor had not known men had even heard of let alone _spoke_ before doing as she asked.

And that was when it happened. One second Thor was atop his horse laughing, and the next the breath was being knocked out of him as he went careening over the cliff face. The last thing he registered was the Morningstar pendant being ripped from his neck.

\--

The first thing Thor became aware of was that Loki was pressing kisses to his chest, neck, cheek, and he wasn’t wearing anything beyond a strip of silk.

“Mm,” he said in Sindarin, shifting his legs around on what felt like a settee and finally opening his eyes. “That feels good.”

Loki paused mid-kiss and rested his arms on either side of Thor’s head. “Does it?” he breathed.

Thor nodded, and his eyes fell shut.

“Ah, ah,” Loki started to say, but Thor had opened his eyes to the icy clue of the Vanaheim sky. Somewhere in the next blink he found Loki watching him with a wry twist to his lips.

“This is a dream,” Thor told him, accusing.

“Yes,” Loki said. “Does that bother you?”

Thor refused to meet his eyes. “Yes,” he said, and made to get to his feet.

Loki swung a leg over Thor’s waist and settled gracefully onto his hips. “Liar,” he said around a smirk. The sunlight filtering into the room made his hair stand out dark against the milk white tips of his ears. Thor reached up to trace fingertips along them gently and Loki’s teeth bit into his bottom lip briefly. “I shall never understand your fascination with those,” he said. Thor followed the line of Loki’s ears to his cheekbones, and let his thumbs play against the skin there. Loki shivered. “I’d call it childhood envy--” Thor curled one leg up and Loki’s voice broke around a purr as he slid down so that his knees were on either side of Thor’s. “--but you never showed this much interest in Helblindi’s or Byleistr’s.”

Thor brought his hands down the column of Loki’s neck, left the right one there to press against his pulse point and dragged the other down his chest. “I think you’d be more than a little bothered if I’d shown this kind of interest in Helblindi or Byleistr,” he said, and pressed a thumb against one nipple.

Loki laughed, breath hissing through his teeth, and finally bent his head down so that Thor could kiss him properly.

“I’m dreaming,” Thor managed in the next breath. Loki, whose eyes had fallen shut somewhere between the press of Thor’s tongue to the roof of his mouth and the roll of his own hips when Thor pushed himself upright, rested his head against Thor’s and sighed.

“Yes,” he said sadly.

“You won’t be here when I wake up.”

“No,” Loki said sadly. “But then again, I never was.”

Thor’s lips twitched.

“Before you go,” Loki said. “His name is Fenrir.”

“Wha--” Thor tried to say, before his eyes flew open to the rush of water and the cold of midday. He blinked, hauled himself to his feet, and shook. When he looked to see what had woken him, he found himself face to face with a horse, storm grey and wild in the eyes.

_His name is Fenrir_ , came Loki’s voice, unbidden, in his head, as he dragged himself up onto his back.

\--

The battle for Aegirheim came to an end with the rise of the sun. Coulson, Freya, Freyr, and to Thor’s great surprise, The Warriors Three, came charging down the hill and made quick work of the armies at their door; with surprise, numbers, and the blinding light of the sun on their side they slashed and hacked their way through the few Chitauri left standing from the night before. Coulson made his way towards the group of them, nodding his head once at Njord, who looked rather shocked upon seeing his children but was unable to keep from smiling in wake of their success.

Thor thought he saw briefly, in the moments spent hugging and congratulating, one lone Elven warrior slip away. The elf paused, brought one hand up to his brow briefly, and vanished in a flash of green light.

When Sif came to get him moments later, Thor was still smiling.

“Now,” Coulson said as they made their way to stand before him. “We have hobbits to collect.”

The group nodded, smiling unrepentantly, and when he spurred Sleipnir into a gallop they were all quick to follow.

Stark and Banner met them just outside of Eljundir, raising an arm and axe respectively, before falling into step behind Coulson and Sleipnir.

“So, eight-legged horse,” Stark said. “Also, Phil, thanks for letting me think you were dead. Terrifying to receive a letter from a dead man. You’re lucky that I was surrounded by all powerful elves. Your brother included,” he added, looking at Thor. “Though he did leave for home awfully quickly--something about a ship?--anyway, Phil...”

Thor heard nothing more, mind repeating _ship_ over and over in his head.

“Thor?” Banner said softly. “Are you alright?”

Thor shook his head. “What?” he said. “I mean yes.”

Banner looked at him for a long moment, before nodding. “Okay,” he said.

“Hank, look at you!” Stark cried when they spotted the pair of them. Janet was smirking behind him, and behind her, the ruins of Eljundir stood. Thor swallowed hard on all other emotions, and tried very hard to smile. From the way Natasha gave him a look, he failed.

\--

They returned back to Njord’s hall in silence. The Vanir King rode ahead of the group with a strained expression; behind him Freyr and Freya were silent. Freya’s cheeks glistened with tears, but she made no move to wipe them.

“I’m not quite sure what the big deal is,” Stark hissed to Thor. “We won.”

Thor’s brow furrowed and he looked at him sharply. “Nerthus was an honorable woman and a mighty Queen; it would do you well to mourn her passing.”

Stark glanced between the twins and their father. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, that’s, erm, unfortunate?”

Thor inclined his head towards Clint, who rode just behind Freya stiffly. “You did not fire the arrow,” he said quietly.

Stark made a noise of agreement. “I see,” he said.

Thor’s lips twitched. “Loki must have loved you,” he said under his breath.

Stark pretended not to hear him, but Thor swore he could hear him laughing as they made their way to the great doors.

“Now what?” Stark called to Coulson when Njord and his family had vanished to mourn in private.

Coulson blinked at Stark over the Mímisbrunnr. It glowed ominously, and Coulson very quickly covered it with one long sleeve. “We sleep,” he said.

They did not sleep for long.

\--

“You just had to touch it,” Janet said. “The magical all seeing orb that Coulson specifically instructed you _not_ to touch. Hank, honey, we really need to work on this.”

From atop his place atop Sleipnir, Pym glared. “Jan,” he said. “Not helping.”

Janet gave him hard look. “You could have been killed,” she said.

“Unlikely,” Coulson interjected quickly. “I do not think even Thanos has mastered the art of killing from miles away.”

Stark rolled his eyes. “He would be the one,” he muttered. “Either that or your lovely father-in-law,” he added to Thor, smiling cheerfully. Thor glared at him.

“Regardless,” Janet said. “You touched it, you saw...whatever it was you saw, and because of that you’re riding for Asgard.”

Pym shifted restless in the saddle.

“Hank,” Janet groaned. “He’s just a horse.”

“Yeah,” Hank snapped, “with eight legs.”

Janet sighed. “I’d go with you if I could,” she said gently. “But I’m needed here.” She had leant in to say that last sentence, and so she missed the way some of the men of Njord’s army rolled their eyes; the way Amora’s jaw tightened slightly. Thor did not, and was sure to glare on her behalf. Janet might have been smaller than the rest of them, but he did not doubt that she was any less determined.

 “If you’re both through,” Coulson said. “We shall be going now.”

Janet stopped frowning, and went up on her tiptoes. “You be careful, now,” she said softly to Hank, who bent down until he was almost falling so that she could press a kiss to corner of his mouth.

Sleipnir allowed it for a moment, before he tossed his head and Hank was sent careening almost to the ground. Coulson caught him, tugged him back up onto the horse, and nodded to Thor and the others.

“So what now?” Stark said to Thor.

Thor shrugged, crossed his arms, and turned to look at Njord and his family. Freya was smiling, arm around Amora, who looked up to meet his eyes and smiled wider.

Thor looked away quickly, sighing.

Stark’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm,” he said.

“What?” Thor said.

Stark’s lips twisted. “Nothing,” he said. “Just...I’m pretty sure that Bruce and I were followed.”

Thor stiffened. “What?” he said.

“Nothing dangerous,” Stark continued. “Only curious. Rebelling. Possibly cripplingly in love with a brute of a man.”

Thor blinked. “Oh?” he said.

Stark put an arm around him quickly. “Wanted to let you know,” he said, before he reached out and dragged Bruce and the hobbits over to Njord and Amora.

Natasha remained looking at Thor for a moment. “You will be a good king,” she said certainly, and Thor twitched.

“You don’t know that,” Thor admitted. “I gave up that path long ago.”

He remembered Laufey’s eyes when he told him his heritage, remembered the way his mother faded away until she was nothing more than a ghost, wandering the halls of Jotunheim clothed in the splendor of the kings of men. He remembered Loki, caught between duty and love, watching him with eyes newly opened as Thor lifted from his knees in front of him to prove he was the one who towered now. He remembered, and let out a breath. “I am no king.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Natasha said quietly. “I have seen many kings--of men and elf alike. You will be a good king.”

Thor was left staring after her for a long time, wondering again just who she was.

\--

The beacons came lit several days past, and they made for Valaskajálf one day later. Njord tried to bar Amora from coming, but Freya, with her hair a blaze of fire down her back and a sword at her side, draped one long arm around her cousin and dragged her off to saddle a horse.

Amora turned to look back at Thor, smiling, and Njord stepped in close. “It has been a long time since I saw her smile like that,” he said.

Thor remained silent.

“Well,” Njord said. “We have a war to win.” He clasped a hand to Thor’s shoulder, and nodded once before taking his leave.

“Sucks for you,” said Stark, appearing at Thor’s side moments later when he went to Fenrir’s side.

“I do not know what you mean,” Thor told him angrily, tightening the girth. “It would do you well, Stark, to mind your own business.”

Stark uncrossed his arms and reached out with one hand to grasp the Morningstar pendant, which he dragged free of Thor’s shirt before Thor’s fingers closed, vice-like, around his wrist. “What are you doing?” he snapped.

“You should let that show,” Stark said. “She’ll notice.”

“I do not know whom you mean,” Thor repeated, but when Stark released his grip on the pendant, he didn’t tuck it into his shirt as he wished to.

“Right,” Stark said over his shoulder as he went to saddle his own horse.

It was not long after that they were readied, dressed in the glory of Vanaheim and Asgard alike, with Njord and Coulson at the front, Amora, Freyr, and Freya behind them, Thor and the fellowship not far after. As they set off in a thunder of hooves, flags held high, Thor for the first time, allowed himself a brief thought for Steve, and for Barnes; he hoped they were fine.


	2. Interlude, Steve and Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN THIS STORY I JUST HAVE SCHOOL AND BETAING IS A HARD JOB.
> 
> Betaed this time by the lovely [Kat](http://fourbelts.tumblr.com/). All mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

**Interlude, Steve and Bucky**

 

\--

They spent the first hour in complete silence. Steve was still digesting the very real feeling of Tony’s fingers clawing at his arms and fighting him for the ring, and Bucky, in a rare moment of sincerity, didn’t say anything. When they reached land, Bucky got out of the boat, keeping one foot afloat until Steve clamored out after him, and looked up at the sky. In the distance, the fires of Helheim sputtered angrily, casting dark shadows across the forest of Alfheim.

“We’re really going there?” Bucky said.

Steve could tell he wasn’t serious.“Yep,” he said anyway, hoisting his pack more firmly onto his shoulders and managing a smile. “Come on.”

They had only gone two steps when Bucky said, “so what did Stark do?” into the silence.

Steve felt his heart stutter to a stop. “What do you mean?” he said.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Rogers, really,” he said, shoving a hand at him. Their feet scrabbled against the forest floor; Steve flailed, took Bucky’s knowing hand, and sighed.

“He tried to take the ring,” he said quietly.

“Huh.” Bucky was looking ahead steadily, still half squinting at the fiery skies ahead of them. “How’d you stop him?”

Steve blinked.

“I mean, the height difference alone--”

He shoved him, hard, and Bucky went laughing to the left.

“--And Thor was teaching him some things--”

“I’m not really sure Thor’s very good at teaching,” Steve said, grudgingly, around a smile.

“Regardless. The guy grew up raised with them elves. Lumbering and oafish he may be, but give the man a bow or a sword and the grace alone--” Bucky broke off and gave shrill whistle.

Steve startled minutely, but recovered quickly. “Careful,” he said. “You never know when the trees are listening. And while I don’t think they like talking to Hobbits, they certainly hold no qualms in sending gossip back to Princes of Jontunheim.”

Bucky gave him a long look.

“What?”

“I don’t know what to do with you half the time.”

He shrugged.

“It’s like you’ve become this completely different person.”

Steve’s lips twitched. “Well actually, that one was the Lady Idunn’s.”

Bucky made a noise of agreement. “Ah,” he said. “That during the whole ‘look into the magic mirror and see the horrors of the future thing?’”

Steve didn’t even try to hide his grin. “Don’t even pretend you weren’t hiding behind a tree.”

Bucky met his gaze. “Try me.”

“Second to the right? Just behind her left shoulder? Probably got a spectacular view of my terrified face.”

Bucky held out for all of three seconds, before he was howling.

“Yeah, that one,” Steve said, not even looking up when Bucky began imitating him.

“Not that I blame you,” Bucky said. “She was terrifying.”

He nodded.

“What did you see anyway?”

“I bit him,” he said instead.

There was a long pause.

“...who?” Bucky said finally.

“...Tony?” Steve replied, not quite sure why. “When he was trying to take the ring? Bucky, what’re you--”

Bucky was looking very relieved.

For a moment, Steve simply sputtered at him. “I--” he said finally. “I can’t believe you--Bucky! He’s a man!”

Bucky threw up his arms. “I’m sorry!” he said around laughter. “I--I’m sorry it’s not--look, it’s not the most horrific thing in the world. You could be like your uncle--”

Steve felt his cheeks flame. “Shut up!” he shrieked, not sure if he was embarrassed about what Bucky was saying about his uncle or Tony.

“Yes, really,” said a voice. A man whirled his way around one of the nearby trees and looked at them. He made a face. “What? They’re being really loud. I’m surprised no one’s killed them yet. I mean, we could kill them. Well, not anymore, we’ve ruined our cover--you’ve ruined our cover--” He broke off, wincing. “I mean. Oops?” His face transformed into a snarl, briefly, “Don’t apologize,” he said through his teeth, before he turned back to them both with a bright, but tired smile. “Right,” he said. “Hello.”

There was a long beat. Bucky placed himself in front of Steve like clockwork.

“Who are you?”

“Who are--Steve!” Bucky said, and gave him a sharp look. “What do you want?”

“Wade” the man said, evenly, then, suddenly, “Deadpool!” and “Dammit, shut up!” and “We--I’m here to take you to Hellheim.” There was a beat. “Also me,” the man said with a terrifying smile. “I’m here, too.”

Steve looked at him faintly.

“Absolutely not,” Bucky said.

 

\--

It took two days of mindless roaming and scrapped feet for Bucky to give up. Steve was surprised he’d last the days to begin with. But he did, eyes red rimmed and looking far more worn than Steve had ever seen him, putting an arm around Steve and sighing out something about how when they got home, Steve was most definitely going to ask Peggy to dance, before turning over their shoulder and shouting for Wade.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked Bucky quietly, when they’d started walking again.

Bucky just looked at him. “Do you know what Coulson said to me before we set off from Utgard?”

“No.”

“He said, ‘sacrifices will be made, James Barnes. Make sure you’re making the right ones.’”

“How can you tell they’re the right ones?” Steve said very softly, for the first time feeling the weight of the ring.

Bucky was silent for even longer. “Why did you say you’d take it?”

“People were going to get hurt,” he said, without thinking. “Oh.”

“There you go.”

 

\--

It was obvious that Bucky didn’t like Wade much. He insisted on calling him Deadpool, insisted on airing the entirety of Wade’s dirty history loudly and with little consideration, and refused to sleep when Steve did. It was trying, to put it mildly, but Steve gritted his teeth and bore it. Bucky was the only thing he had left of home, and he’d be damned if he let the ring take even that from him. Because he wasn’t stupid. Wade might be unnervingly easy going and charming, but Steve so much as touched the thing and his eyes went sharp.

“What does it mean to you?” Bucky asked one morning over breakfast. They’d settled against some shrubs in the dirt to eat. It took Wade a minute to realize Bucky was addressing him.

“What does what mean to me?”

“The ring.” Bucky stuck out a foot and shoved at Steve’s thigh. Steve wrinkled his nose at him.

Wade didn’t say anything for a moment. “Hope,” he said finally.

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Hope,” he repeated, dubious. “It’s evil.”

Wade’s eyes went sharp. “Yeah, wow, that got depressing real fast. I’m out of here.” He set down his food. He vanished into the underbrush with ease.

 

\--

Bucky’s betrayal was not what he had expected, and Wade’s was. The giant she-devil spider that tried to make him breakfast? Worth it only for the expression of Bucky’s face when he stabbed it in the stinger, and started shouting at him.

“Steve, are you even listening to me?” Bucky shouted at him, finally, and Steve, wrapped as he was in all the web and half passed out due to whatever toxins she’s injected him with, attempted to convey how very much he was listening. “Steve?” Bucky said suddenly. “Steve--hey--Steve?” Bucky’s voiced sounded like it was very far away, and part of Steve knew he should have been worried about that. The rest of him was busy subcumbing to the poison.

When he next woke, the ring was gone, and Bucky was standing over him half-covered in Chitauri blood. “Right,” Bucky said. “First things first, take this--” he held out the chain with the ring and Steve took it frantically.

“Second?” he said once he’d slipped the thing around his neck again. Bucky was silent for a moment, and so he looked up. His friend looked exhausted.

“So, remember how we’ve been trying to get to Hellheim?”

“Yes. We were quite close when Wade sent me to my doom,” he said. Bucky gave him a sharp look; he winced. “Sorry.”

“Well the good news is that we’re here,” Bucky said.

“Bad news?”

“We’re not hte only ones here."

They fought their way out, barely.

 

\--

“Did Coulson say anything about what we’re supposed to be looking for?” Bucky said.

“A mountain,” Steve replied. “We’re supposed to drop the ring into it; it was forged there.”

“Right, okay,” Bucky said. “Thought so.” He looked up. Steve followed his line of sight, and there it was; the mountain, tall, towering, and covered in thickly curling smoke. Steve looked across the dead terrain, and could not muster the strength to climb it.

“Well,” Bucky said. “You coming?” He was three steps through the rock already.

Steve gritted his teeth.

He took a step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one, I know, and not from Thor's POV. We're in the home stretch guys. Come say hi on [tumblr](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/).

**Author's Note:**

> And scene! Part 1 of this monster is done, and we still have the majority it Return of the King to cover. There shouldn’t be too much of a wait between the updates, however, since it's all sitting happily in google docs and the weekend is coming up. Expect it soonish.
> 
> Update info and extras/art can be found on my [tumblr](http://www.zimriya.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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